Most of you know the story of the Wisteria Quilt. Last Spring, as I walked around the neighborhood, I spotted a beautiful Wisteria bush that was as large as a tree. It was in full bloom, and the aroma was heady. As I walked past it day after day, I decided to take a photo and see if I could come up with a quilt design that would resemble the beautiful purple blooms hanging down. I drew it out, and bought fabric, thinking all the while that I was going to take my time with this. There was no hurry because the lucky recipient of this particular quilt, would be me.
As I worked on it, the still small voice of the Lord whispered to me..."Purple is your mother's favorite color." I agreed with Him, and carried on. This little conversation was to be repeated several times. I often replied that I knew it was her favorite color, but this quilt was for me. It's mine.
My mother has been battling cancer for two years. I did feel a little guilty for telling God no, but she was doing ok and I wanted this quilt. While she was in the hospital for some seemingly unrelated malady, I took the squares with me and worked on them by hand in her hospital room. I decided then to just make the whole thing by hand. And I worked nightly to piece all of the small squares together, while I gently ignored the "voice".
The seemingly unrelated malady, was indeed more cancer. This time....there will be no cure. She will undergo chemo, but for comfort purposes only. We don't know how long it will keep things at bay, but time is limited now. That still small "voice" became louder and stronger, and this time I had no choice but to say "yes Lord." I no longer minded that it wouldn't be my quilt, but I didn't want to spend months working on it by hand, so back to the sewing machine I went.
I had some trouble with the quilting, as part of it was hand pieced and part by machine. For me, it was not doable, so I instead tacked each square with purple yarn. It made a nice grid on the back and it worked out nicely I think.
I gave it to my mother this weekend, when I brought her home from her holiday weekend in the hospital. She seemed pleased with it, but the real point was that I obeyed God's urging, albeit reluctantly at first. And I feel better for it.